


Baisemain

by ponderinfrustration



Series: Always Be There [6]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Slash, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9334730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponderinfrustration/pseuds/ponderinfrustration
Summary: The Daroga soothes an anxious Erik at the premiere of his latest opera.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt from rjdaae, who sent me Baisemain for Pharoga. Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.

It is the opening night of _Orpheus et Eurydice_ and Erik is nervous. Rahim can see this. It is written in every line of him. In truth, Erik is not the only one nervous. Rahim himself is a bundle of nerves and pride. Pride at both Erik _and_ Christine. She has worked so hard on this, has consulted deeply with Erik to get his own thoughts, and now the time is at hand. It is, he will confess, a little thrilling.

Rahim does not doubt them, either of them. He knows that what they have created will be wonderful. It is only a matter of the _rest_ of Paris seeing that too, and they will. They have a deep, abiding affection for the mysterious composer Erik, and a developing one for the young La Daaé, and combining the two of them in one opera? They are bound to love it.

Still. It is only ten minutes until the curtain rises, and Erik is nervous. They have already been down with Christine, have encouraged her and promised her that she will be wonderful, and Rahim knows that there is little that he can say that will soothe Erik now. He must deal with it now in his own way, one hand curled around the watch he has lifted off Rahim’s coat, the other hand resting on his knee, fingers tapping frantically. Rahim recognises it as the opening instrumental, has heard it so many times now in both composition and rehearsal, and it is beautiful.

Still. It may be beautiful (and it is, oh, how it is) but it is also grating on his frayed nerves to hear Erik beat it thus. He wishes Darius were here, so he would have someone to distract him from his own tension when Erik is so closed off, but Darius has a tradition of not coming to the opening night, giving Rahim and Erik their privacy for that. He will attend later, when the production has ironed out any arising issues, in order to, in his own words “see it at it’s very best.”

Erik’s fingers are still drumming, and Rahim reaches over, lifts Erik’s own watch from his pocket to consult it. He can hear Erik’s words from long ago – from Persia, in fact – in his mind, as if he said them only moments ago. _Your watch is better for thinking with, Daroga._ When they were reunited again in Paris, it briefly crossed his mind to ask, _Is that why you stole it the night you left?,_ but he has never voiced those words, and he knows he never will.

Five minutes left. Five minutes. The world can slow down immensely in five minutes, each beat of his heart echoing in his brain. Five minutes until the show starts. Five minutes until Erik’s newest production opens. Five minutes until Erik’s drumming fingers will curl into a ball, his knuckles white, fingers buried deep in the palm of his hand, each breath stuttering. Five minutes, and if they are lucky Erik’s nails will not break the skin this time. Five minutes.

Five minutes is far too long to wait.

Rahim reaches over, and takes Erik’s hand. The room buzzes silent, Erik's fingers still, and all Rahim can hear is the sound of his swallowing. Rahim swallows too, and raises Erik’s hand to his lips.

The kiss is a soft one, gentle, and he follows it with another one to the knuckles, one to the palm, one to the back, the skin so smooth and delicate. Erik releases a slow, stuttering breath, and time resets itself, the chatter of the audience swarming around them once again.

“Thank you,” Erik murmurs, his lips barely moving. “Thank you.”

Rahim smiles, and squeezes the hand he still holds. “You’re welcome.”

(He holds that hand all through the first half, and again all through the second, and at the end, as Christine takes a bow and the audience gives her a standing ovation, Rahim kisses Erik’s hand again, then leans over, prying eyes bedamned though they are sitting far enough back as to be in half-shadows, and presses one soft kiss to his lips, and in that moment, all is right with the world.)


End file.
